


A gun, a bullet, and a bottle of Jack Daniel’s

by Kayim



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-10 23:28:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10449945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayim/pseuds/Kayim
Summary: Ezra waits, ready to go out with a fight, if that's what it takes.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt that became the title.
> 
> This is not what I started to write, but it happened. One day I'll write a happy Ezra-centric fic, but apparently that isn't today.

Ezra sits on the floor of his small bedroom, his back to his unmade bed. He faces the door, and holds tightly to the items in his hands. 

The gun is loaded with his last bullet, but he grips it tightly in his dominant left hand as though it can fend off whatever is going to come through. He knows it will probably have no effect at all, but he can’t just give up. He has to keep fighting.

In his right hand, he is holding the half-empty bottle of Jack that he found tucked under his bed. He doesn’t remember now what had possessed him to leave the perfectly-good alcohol there, but he’s grateful. He really doesn’t want to face the end sober.

He takes another swig from the bottle, wondering how the others have fared. They were split up soon after the first attack, and he hasn’t heard from the rest of his team in days. He’s not a religious man, by any stretch of the imagination, but the past few weeks have altered his perception of good and evil, so he offers up a silent prayer to Josiah’s God, in the hopes that he can keep the others safe.

He shivers, feeling the darkness approaching, and takes another drink. It burns in his throat as he swallows, but he appreciates the reminder that he’s still alive. He knows he might not be for much longer. There is a roar of noise inside his head, and he feels the creature screaming his name.

Wondering briefly if he should save the bullet for himself instead, he knows he would never do that. In his heart, he’s a fighter, like they all are, and he won’t take the easy way out. He’ll fight until the very end. No matter how soon that might be.

The floor begins to vibrate, almost as though the creature is stepping closer, and Ezra knows that this is it. He puts the bottle on the floor, and uses his right hand to steady the shake in his left. He keeps the gun targeted on the door and takes deep breaths to center himself.

It’s only then that he hears the shouting. Human. Male. Familiar.

His hand is suddenly steadier than it had been before, and he finds his breathing more relaxed. He’s not going to die alone.

His team are here. 

Maybe he isn’t going to die today at all.


End file.
